Alumni Ball

This is a story by the great Marisol, a German FF writer whose stories can be found at http://www.harrypotter-xperts.de/fanfiction?author=17037

Translated from German into English by Muggline

Disclaimer: Neither Marisol nor Muggline are making any money out of this. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K.Rowling.

A/N: Since ladyinthecloak is enjoying a well deserved holiday, my thanks for beta-ing this chapter go out to Professor M McGonagall. She is an avid reviewer and thankfully rose to the challenge of taming my wild English punctuation (and she gave me some much appreciated hints how to put some things in better words, too). Thanks, Professor! Moreover, I would like to thank notsosaintly for her neverending supply of commas and tense corrections!

Chapter 13

She did not know what made her do it, but her hand hesitatingly touched his forearm and moved over the area of skin under which she felt something pulsate like a wounded animal in agony. Her fingers fought his goose bumps, maybe they also caused them, she was not sure. He allowed it, maybe because he was too surprised to shake her off, maybe because he was unable to do anything but stare at her as if he were unsure whether this was actually happening.

His skin felt cool under her fingers and somewhat unreal. It suddenly reminded her of her first and only visit to Madame Toussaud's in London when she was a little girl. She had marvelled at the wax figures that looked almost as if they were real, as if they were only a wink away from life.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. His voice was surprisingly gentle, and she knew that he did not mean her hand on his arm – at least not only.

Hermione looked up into his pale face that was framed by his black hair as usual. She wanted to say something because she felt that the answer was very simple. But to her astonishment, she found that her mouth opened and closed again without having uttered one single word. Terms like sympathy and compassion swirled around in her mind, but she knew that he did not want to hear them and that she could not say them either. "I don't know," she whispered almost inaudibly while averting her gaze.

He freed his arm from her grip – neither forcibly nor with a jerk – but nevertheless, she felt as if she had done something forbidden.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, not knowing for what she ought to be sorry, but it somehow seemed right to her. "I... I will leave you alone now." When she turned around to go, she heard him say something, and she stopped immediately.

"Some time ago, you said that I was too much of a coward to either really live or die. Do you remember?"

She felt like she moved in slow motion as she turned to look him in the eye. "I was angry when I said that," she blurted. "I did not want to..."

"Yes, you wanted to say just that, Miss Granger," he interrupted her, and she knew that it would make no sense to deny it. But she also knew that he had realized himself how much truth lay in her words.

Back at the castle, Hermione had some difficulty finding Harry and Ginny because many former students and teachers had arrived in the meantime. She realized that she must have missed McGonagall’s welcoming speech, but she could not help it. Here and there, she saw familiar faces and heard voices she knew, but she could not make out her two friends in the throng.

"Hermione, hey!" She spun around and suddenly found herself facing Ron who looked at her with a strangely stiff smile.

"Ron!" Her impulse of hugging him was nipped in the bud when she noticed the young woman next to him who was holding his left hand.

"Hermione, I would like to introduce you to Cecilia," Ron said with unusual formality. He hastily ruffled his hair with his free hand – she knew that he always did this when he wanted to pretend that everything was all right although it was not. He had obviously been afraid of this encounter, and his gaze told Hermione how important the nice and smooth meeting of the two women was to him.

"Oh, hello, Cecilia," said Hermione. She smiled and held out her hand towards the smaller woman. "It's nice to meet you. I am Hermione."

"My pleasure." Cecilia took the outstretched hand, and her smile looked a little tense. There was no doubt that she knew exactly who Hermione was and what kind of relationship they’d had.

There were some embarrassing moments of silence. "Erm, why don't we take a seat?" Ron asked while he looked around the Great Hall. "Look, it's Harry, Ginny and Neville over there!" Relieved, he pointed towards the table where the three friends were seated and started walking towards them without waiting for an answer. Hermione and Cecilia followed him. "Hey, guys," he said when they had reached the table. Then he nodded towards the others and put an arm around his companion, who was looking up at him with an uncertain expression. "This is my girlfriend, Cecilia. I guess I, erm, mentioned her when I was at your house." He looked towards Harry and his sister, his ears flaming red.

"Yeah, once or twice," Ginny smirked and moved aside to make room for the couple. "We have been asking ourselves when we would probably get to see you," she told Cecilia, who shyly returned the smile.

Hermione greeted Neville who was obviously happy to see her. Although she sensed Harry's and Ginny's questioning and concerned gazes, she avoided looking in their direction. She could not deny feeling a pang of regret while observing Ron and his girlfriend. On the other hand, she was relieved that Cecilia seemed to be a reserved but kind young woman. Her ex-boyfriend kept searching her gaze as if he was waiting for a signal that she approved of his choice, so when Hermione thought that nobody was noticing, she nodded slightly in his direction. The fact that another woman had taken her place felt very strange. Ron had told her that he was seeing someone quite a while ago, but Hermione could not deny that it hurt her to see it. She hurt, not because she envied Ron's happiness or because she was still fond of him, but because her own loneliness became ever more clear with it.

In spite of the agitating experience with Snape in Hogsmeade as well as the encounter with Ron and the new woman by his side, the day turned out to be one of those Hermione would remember fondly in the future. During the festivities, they met many of their former classmates. They learnt that Parvati Patil had become a successful witches' fashion designer in France and that Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had a pub in London together, which neither Harry or Ron had known about. Neville, who had been teaching Herbology at Hogwarts for quite a while, seemed to be rather popular with the students. None of them would have thought otherwise, but nevertheless, Hermione felt a sudden rush of pride when she saw one of his former students tap him on the shoulder and say, "Thank you very much for helping me so much with the classification of healing roots last year, Professor Longbottom. I would never have made it through that exam without you!"

When Ron and Cecilia moved towards the dance floor, Ginny sat next to her and asked, "How are you, Hermione?"

"Good," Hermione answered without hesitation. "I may not appear that way, but I don't mind. Really." She saw Ron, who spun the dark haired witch around, laughing. Cecilia seemed to idolize him, and Hermione suddenly thought that Ron had remained the same over all those years. In spite of all the recognition he had received from the wizarding world, he would never be able to overcome his insecurities in certain points. Maybe he really needed someone who worshipped him and constantly gave him the confirmation he needed. Maybe Cecilia was exactly the right woman for the task.

"I met Snape back in Hogsmeade," Hermione whispered to Ginny. She had not planned on telling anyone, but now the words were out and Ginny looked at her in surprise. Hermione told her what had happened, although she did not mention that she had touched his arm. She was not sure why she wanted to keep this to herself, and she was not embarrassed by her actions, but for some reason she did not want anyone to know, not even Ginny.

"After all these months that Severus has been visiting us, I must admit that I still do not know him at all. Of course, we do talk and all that. But he would never give away what he thinks or feels. Apart from Al. I am sure that he has grown quite fond of our little one. However, to imagine him standing there, staring at the Shrieking Shack... it gives me the creeps. Oh, Hermione, I feel so very, very sorry for him. I would love to do something to make him less lonely in life, but the only thing I can offer him is a role in Al's life. I guess he does not attach too much importance to Harry's or my friendship. What is more, I simply cannot imagine that he might ever be interested in a woman again. Not after Lily."

"A woman?" Lost in thought, Hermione worried her bottom lip. Strangely enough, the thought of Snape with a female person had never crossed her mind. The picture seemed as out of place as snow in July, but still, Hermione wondered why she found it that outlandish. Maybe, she reasoned, it was because he was a former teacher. Students often had the popular, albeit childish, misconception that their teachers were asexual beings. Hermione had never been able to imagine Professors Flitwick, Sprout or McGonagall as part of a married couple or in a romantic liaison. In Snape's case, it was even more difficult, because every comparison that involved him and even a hint of romanticism seemed to be doomed from the start.

"Well, where would he meet one?" Ginny continued. "There are only three places he frequents on a regular basis: our house, the apothecary when he delivers his potions or takes orders, and his own home."

"Who are you gossiping about again?" Harry, who had been at the bar to get some drinks, sat down next to his wife and grinned.

"We are not gossiping, but merely stating facts," Ginny corrected him and playfully punched his ribs.

"Well, to me it's all the same," he replied dryly. "But while you're at it: what do you think about Cecilia?" He nodded towards the dance floor, where Ron and his girlfriend were swaying to the music.

"I think she's quite nice, but a little shy," Hermione said.

"Which has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she is sitting at a table with the famous Harry Potter and his well-known wife of course. Plus Hermione Granger, also known as the woman who broke Ron's heart, which Cecilia is struggling to mend at the moment. It seems that she's doing quite a good job, don't you think?" Ginny grinned and took Hermione's hand to convey that she had not meant the part about the broken heart.

"At least it explains why we have not seen much of him these last few months," Harry said. "You know what? It doesn't do me good to sit with you girls. I feel I might become a gossipmonger just like you. Maybe I'd better go and sit with the guys." He pointed towards a table where Seamus, Ernie, Dean and Lee Jordan were sitting, looking at Lavender Brown and Susan Bones who were just passing by.

"Just take care – all this serious philosophical talk about 'male subjects' might make your head, or in this case your neck, ache," Ginny answered with a smug grin and dodged a paper ball that Harry threw in her direction. He bent over, kissed her on the mouth and went over to his old friends, who greeted him with beaming smiles.

"So where were we?" Ginny said with an impassive expression as soon as Harry was out of earshot. Hermione giggled.

"We were scrutinizing Ron's girlfriend," she answered.

"Oh, yeah, right. Ron seems to be embarrassed that you two met, but I think he is also glad that it's over."

"There's no need for him to be embarrassed," Hermione stated. "Of course, the situation is a little uncomfortable. But Ron needs to know that I want to see him happy."

"Maybe there will be an opportunity to tell him later," Ginny said.

And indeed, the opportunity came when Cecilia disappeared towards the ladies' room later on. Hermione told Ron that she was glad to see someone by his side who obviously cared a great deal for him.

He hugged her and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Thanks, Hermione," he murmured. "It's very important to me that you say that. I'm sorry that I have not been in touch for months, but I was not sure whether..."

"I know," she interrupted. "You don't need to apologize. I did not keep in touch either. However, it would be nice if we could arrange to meet some day. Like in the old days, you know. You, Harry, me."

Ron nodded, and Hermione swallowed hard at the thought that this very special friendship between them would probably never end. Their connection was like an old door. It might groan and creak at times, but no matter what happened, it would never be closed.

In the following hours, Hermione talked with Hagrid, Minerva, Padma and Parvati as well as a great number of other former classmates and teachers. They all had interesting stories to tell, and while they remembered all those important and meaningless events that had happened at Hogwarts, Hermione felt flooded by a feeling of gratitude for being here.

All those horrible memories she connected with Hogwarts were consciously pushed away to the very back of her mind – helped a great deal by the alcohol she had consumed. Somehow, she had managed to achieve the perfect balance between lightness and feeling down to earth. She was clearly tipsy, but not so much as to cause any silly behaviour.

"Would you like to dance, Hermione?" Neville held out his hand, and his round face beamed when she nodded.

"Of course, yes," she said and let him guide her to the dance floor.

They were both a little clumsy, Neville even more than she was, and they did not manage to get into the beat, but it was fun and Hermione laughed exuberantly. She did not mind that they were stepping on each other's feet, and when the music ended, she regretted having to stop.

"Thanks, Neville," she gasped. "I have not had so much fun in a long while."

"Neither have I.” Neville grinned.

When they got back to their table, she was surprised to see Snape sitting next to Harry. All evening, she had been looking around to see whether she could make him out among all those people. She had finally concluded that he had not come back to the castle. She had asked herself why he had accepted the invitation for the party anyhow . But Ginny had told her that Minerva had talked him into it because she wanted to ask him to come back to Hogwarts and teach.

Neville gave Snape a cool nod before he turned away to sit at another table. Snape returned the greeting in the same way, and Hermione realized with a start how deeply they loathed each other. The prophecy that Harry had told her about all those years ago could have been meant for Neville, too, and Snape had known. He had known that Voldemort could have gone for the Longbottoms and that Lily Potter would have survived. All those years during which Snape had picked on Neville and humiliated him were the result of a desperate wish that Neville had been the one being chased by Voldemort. The realisation struck her like lightning, and she sat down mechanically, aware of the astounded gazes of her peers.

"Everything all right, Hermione?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Oh, yes, I guess I had too much to drink," she murmured.

"You wannna go outside and catch some fresh air with me?" Ginny offered, but Hermione shook her head. "I'll be all right, thanks." She felt Snape's gaze on her, but she was unable to look up.

Hermione heard Harry ask Snape about his conversation with Minerva, and she also noticed many curious faces observing their table. Snape answered in his calm, velvety voice and told them that he had declined the offer to come back and teach. "However, Minerva forced me to promise to think it over once more and let her know about my final decision after Christmas," he added.

"Does that mean that you are not interested in coming back to Hogwarts at all?" Ginny asked.

"Not in the least. It was a mistake to attend this party, too."

"You mean because of all those people who are gawking at us right now?" Harry asked. "You shouldn’t care about them, Severus. As far as I'm concerned, I don't give a f...iddler's."

Snape's lips twisted into a hint of a smile. "Language, Potter," he reprimanded. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Yeah, go ahead – c'mon, deduct some more points, maybe it'll give you a taste for teaching again!" Harry grinned, then stood and asked Ginny if she wanted to dance.

Hermione's eyes followed them as they headed for the dance floor. She saw that Ron, who was sitting at another table, obviously wrestled with himself whether he ought to join them or not, but his dislike towards Snape seemed to have gotten the upper hand and he stayed where he was.

"So silent, Miss Granger? Is it the lack of conversationalists or my own personal flair?"

She met his mocking gaze, and it seemed to her that the afternoon's episode had never happened – that she had never stood next to him and told him what had happened that day in the Shrieking Shack."

"Neither," she replied. "Sometimes, even I don't feel like talking."

"Really?”

She was angry about his ironic undertone but did not want to quarrel with him. Maybe this was only his way of dealing with what had occurred earlier, she thought. However, the silence between them became uncomfortable, and Hermione caught herself shifting in her seat.

Just to break the silence, she asked, "Do you dance, sir?" She did not relate the question to herself at all; it had only been the first thing that came to her mind while observing the dancing couples.

"With you? No." He looked at her with an irritated and amused expression, and she cursed internally for having uttered something so stupid.

"That was by far the most charming brush-off I ever got. And it angers me even more because I really had not thought about asking you but merely wanted to say something. Nevertheless, a gentleman would have worded it differently," she hissed.

"On one hand, I am hardly what you might call a gentleman," he replied matter-of-factly. "On the other hand, I observed you with Longbottom, and it seemed to me that I would not do myself a favour if I endangered my feet in such a manner. Please excuse me for being blunt, but as far as I am concerned, you are better off sitting down or even walking. You may have many hidden talents, Miss Granger. However, dancing is not one of them."

"A woman can only dance as good as the leading partner," was her barbed remark. "Neville is a nice guy, but there are many things he just cannot help." She gave him a meaningful gaze. "Dancing is not quite his forte, I guess."

"So you claim that you would be much better with a partner who actually knows what he's doing?" he asked derisively.

"Of course I do!"

Before she even knew what was happening, he had grabbed her hand and hoisted her up. "Prove it!"